


Red as Blood

by EverAnon



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, It does not have a happy ending, Odin is a Douche, be warned, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverAnon/pseuds/EverAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Days before his coronation, Thor's biggest concern is whether or not he can successfully write his speech. But then Odin summons him to the throne room for an unexpected ceremony. A ceremony involving his brother and a unexpectedly sharp dagger.</p>
<p>Surely Odin cannot mean for him to kill his own <i>brother</i>.</p>
<p>Can he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thor paced in his rooms, mentally reviewing his post-coronation speech. Battles he could handle, enemies he could fight, but words had always been his brother’s domain. He had asked Loki for assistance, but his brother had laughed and told him he would be far more likely to remember the words if he wrote them himself. After much persuasion, (by which Thor meant he had sat on Loki until his brother had finally said yes), Loki had grudgingly agreed to listen to Thor’s practice and help smooth out any rough edges. After, and only after, the speech was already finished. 

Finishing was the difficult part. The words simply would not come. Soon, all of Asgard would cheer for him as he promised once again to protect the realm against all those who would harm her. He loved Asgard, with all his heart, but he was a man of action. How could he express all those feelings in a few brief words? Loki made it look so easy…

“My prince?”

The servant looked nervous, perhaps because he had just caught the crown prince of Asgard pulling on his own hair like a child. Or perhaps that was simply the normal state of servants. It was sometimes difficult to tell.

“The Allfather has summoned you to the throne room, my prince. He wishes you to come at once.” Having delivered his message, the servant bowed once and retreated from the room.

A summons? The coronation was yet days away. What could possibly be the purpose of a summons now? Surely Father was not going to change his mind, not at this late hour. Perhaps there was some aspect of the ceremony Father wished to discuss with him. Some detail that required Thor’s attention in order to ensure that the day went perfectly. 

Shrugging aside his sudden unease, Thor left for the throne room. It would not do to keep Father waiting.

The first thing Thor noticed was the noise. It sounded as if all of Asgard was crowded into the room, and indeed, when Thor entered it certainly seemed as if all of Asgard had tried. The massive throng of people quickly moved aside when they saw their crown prince had arrived, leaving a clear path to the dais. From the gossip reaching his ears, none of them had any idea why they were there. 

Father sat upon the throne, Gungnir in his hand, expression regal. Loki was standing at the Allfather’s left, face smooth and impassive. Thor raised his eyebrow slightly, inclining his head towards the Allfather in a silent question, _What is this about?_ Loki gave a minute shrug of his shoulders in response. Apparently he knew no more than the rest of them. That in itself was strange; Loki was remarkably good at knowing everything that went on around him, and had a better idea of the palace gossip than most of the servants. That anyone, even Father, had managed to arrange such an event without his knowledge was oddly…troubling. 

Mother was not there. She had not left her rooms in some days, complaining of illness. Nothing serious, Father had assured them when they asked. Nothing that would cause her to miss the coronation. Woman’s troubles, he had told them with a smile. She would be better soon. 

As Thor made his way to the throne, he mentally reviewed everything he had done in the past few weeks. Did Father have some cause to be angry with him? Surely that was not what this was about. Father would never reprimand him in public, would never allow the people of Asgard to see the royal family divided. For a moment Thor entertained the notion that the coronation was happening now, as that was the only thing he could think of that could account for such a spectacle. But surely Father would have told him if the date were being changed. 

He passed Sif and the Warriors Three standing at the front of the crowd. Sif smiled at him reassuringly, and Thor’s spirits lifted. Perhaps it was merely a ceremony of some kind. Despite Loki’s best efforts at drilling the information into his head, there easily could have been a ritual that Thor had somehow forgotten. He had been so worried about the speech that he had not paid particular attention to anything else. And now that he was closer, Thor could see an ornate dagger placed carefully on a small table near the throne. Yes, some kind of ceremony. Thor hoped that his ignorance would not cause him to shame himself in front of the crowd.

Gracefully, Thor sank to his knee in front of the Allfather, fist over his heart, and awaited further instructions.

For a moment the Allfather sat there, single eye glinting. Then he banged Gungnir against the ground, once, twice, and three times, before the hall was silent and still. He smiled down at Thor, expression proud.  
“Thor Odinson, rise, and stand by me.”

Thor did so, taking his accustomed place at the Allfather’s right hand. This also placed him near the dagger. The jewels on the hilt had made the dagger look more decorative than useful, but the blade was clearly sharp. Thor frowned slightly as he looked at it. Worried about the speech or not, he was quite certain he would have remembered any ceremony that called for the spilling of blood.

The Allfather stood, head turning slightly as he observed the crowd. There were curious glances, but no one disturbed the silence. Satisfied by whatever he saw, the Allfather began his speech. “My people, I know that you wonder at my purpose in calling you here today. As you all know, the day will soon come when my son, Thor, replaces me as king. As a father, I could not be more proud. But as a king, I must know that he is ready, ready to defend Asgard against _all_ those who might harm her.”

Hearing the Allfather’s words reflect his own earlier thoughts, Thor could not repress a shudder. What would he have to do to prove himself worthy? Perhaps that was what the dagger was for, some sort of symbolic gesture regarding his willingness to shed his blood in defense of the realm.

The Allfather continued. “Long has Asgard reigned supreme, leader of the Nine Realms. We have fought for our place. Good men have bled and died for it. Yet always Asgard remains victorious, no matter the enemy. Against the dwarves, who now give us golden gifts in tribute. Against the dark elves, who no longer dare encroach on our lands.” A pause, as the Allfather’s gaze swept the crowd. “Against our greatest enemies, the Frost Giants, who lie broken in their own realm. But not defeated. Not yet. For they have powers, my people, that we do not fully understand. Powers that could rival even our own strength.”

Thor couldn’t help risking a quick glance sideways at Loki. What was the Allfather doing? Were they to go to war, now, with his coronation only days away? Loki remained facing forward, face paler than usual. As if sensing the moment his gaze shifted, the Allfather turned. Thor quickly snapped his eyes back to the front. But it was not on him that the Allfather’s eye fell.

“Loki, kneel before your king.”

A gasp came from the crowd, a brief muttering passing through the hall for the first time since the Allfather had called for silence. The Allfather had included no patronymic. To call a prince by only his first name in such a formal situation signaled a great disgrace, and Thor could hear the crowd as they questioned what Loki could possibly have done to warrant such treatment. He himself was in shock. First the Allfather’s talk of wars long since over, and now this? 

Loki swallowed visibly, but his face remained still. He knelt as commanded. He did not speak. 

The Allfather moved so that he was standing within arm’s reach of Loki, his back to the crowd. “This day has been long in coming, but it is now time for the truth to be known.” He reached forward, hands resting inches from Loki’s head. “I take from you your power!” 

At first, Thor didn’t understand what was happening. What he was seeing, hearing, _watching_. The world narrowed, his senses fading away until all he could see was the Allfather’s hands. They glowed, a light surrounding them as he worked to remove Loki’s magic. Sound took a moment longer to process, before finally snapping back into place.

Screaming. Loki was screaming. 

Now that it had returned, Thor wished for nothing more than his hearing to disappear once again. He surged forward, instinctively wanting to take whatever was causing Loki to make that noise and _make it stop,_ but out of the corner of his eye he saw Sif frantically shaking her head. The sight startled him out of his half-mad resolution, (and that was a good thing, it _was_ , he had been about to attack _Father_ ). For lack of any better ideas, he turned around to focus on his friends. They all looked as shocked as he felt. Volstagg’s mouth was open, Fandral was pale, and even Hogun’s normally impassive face showed signs of surprise. 

He was still staring at them when the screaming stopped. He was still staring at them when the crowd went mad, shouting in horror. He was still staring at them when the first cries of “Jotun!” reached his ears. 

Sif’s hand suddenly reached to her side, for the sword she was not carrying. Hogun made a similar gesture, before he too remembered that his weapon lay elsewhere. Volstagg gasped, and Fandral made an odd, choking noise before falling back into silence. All of them were staring past Thor, to where Father and Loki stood. Feeling as if every limb were weighted down by Mjolnir, Thor turned around.

Father was still standing there, hands outstretched in a parody of benediction. Where Loki had been kneeling mere moments before now lay a blue…creature. It was sprawled on the floor, breathing heavily, head down. Jotun. It had to be, (although it looked nothing like the Jotnar from the books, tall and hairless and all but naked). But if there was a Jotun on the dais, what had happened to…

The Jotun raised its head.

Thor knew the shape of those eyes, for all that their color had changed. Knew the planes of that face, the lines of the cheekbones, despite the swirling patterns overlaying them. Knew the expression, as the creature held its hands in front of its eyes and stared at the blue in horrified fascination. 

The creature. _Loki_.


	2. Chapter 2

Odin banged Gungnir against the ground, calling for silence. “My people! You deserve to know the truth. Long ago, when the war with Jotunheim was ending, I found an infant abandoned in the snow. A runt, no doubt considered too small to live.  _Laufey’s son_.”

Another burst of muttering went through the crowd, forcing Odin to call for silence once more. “Weary of battle, it occurred to me that the creature could perhaps be raised as an Aesir, ignorant of its heritage. That I could prove, once and for all, whether the monstrosity of the Frost Giants was inherent to their blood. And so I took the infant, and brought it back to Asgard, and raised it as my own.”

A flurry of reactions. It seemed most of them had suspected some kind of trick, some sort of magic by which a Jotun imposter had stolen the place of the prince. None of them had realized what Thor had, that the creature in front of them _was_  the prince.

“Alas, no amount of effort proved enough to overcome the blood. You know the truth, my people. You have known it all along. That Loki is now and has always been a creature of deceit, of trickery, of cowardice. That Loki Silvertongue, Loki _Liesmith_ , has no place among the Aesir.” Odin paused again, allowing the people to react to that as they would.

More muttering from the crowd. Whispers of Loki’s past deeds. How, even when serving the Allfather’s commands, he had always done so through treachery. Fighting with magic like a woman, rather than facing his foes in honorable battle. Throwing knives from a distance rather than crossing blades with his enemies.

Loki was cowardly, weak, argr.

Loki was a traitor to Asgard, (but that wasn’t true, it _wasn’t_ , Loki had always been mischievous, but he was no traitor).      

Loki was a _monster_.

Even Sif, face set, eyes hard, was staring at Loki as if he were a stranger. As if he had never trained with them, traveled with them, fought with them. As if suddenly all she could see was blue skin and red eyes, a change in coloration that instantly overrode a thousand years of friendship.

Thor didn’t understand. How could the people of Asgard have turned on Loki so quickly? He was their prince. They _knew_ him.

Except they apparently did not.

Loki hadn’t moved from where he lay on the dais, still staring at his hands. He gave no indication of hearing the Allfather’s words. He simply lay there, breathing much too fast, as though he were drowning on dry land. The expression on his face was hauntingly familiar.

When they were children, their nursemaids had told them stories about the Frost Giants lurking in the shadows, waiting to snatch away disobedient children from their families. After those tales, Loki inevitably ended up hiding in Thor’s bed, convinced that monsters lurked under his own. With the protectiveness of the older sibling, Thor had assured him that the monsters wouldn’t think to look for him in another room. That even if they did, Thor would defend him. It was usually enough to calm Loki down and help him go back to sleep, although often that only meant a brief respite before another nightmare. He would wake again, breathing too fast, unable to hide his tears. Eventually Thor told Mother about the dreams, and from then on the nursemaids had found other stories to tell. The nightmares had taken longer to disappear.

Loki had always been far more afraid of Frost Giants than Thor.

Thor was shaken from these thoughts by the sudden realization that Father was speaking to him. “…know your duty. A king must always put his people first, above all other concerns. Can you do this?”

“I…yes. Of course I will. Father, I do not understand…”

Father was holding out the dagger to him now. Thor took it, uncertain what else to do. “Then you will do what must be done.”

What must be done? What was he talking about? First he chose to reveal that Loki was a, a  _Jotun_ , then he spoke of duty and handed…

Handed Thor a dagger. A ceremonial dagger. Such as those used in rituals of sacrifice.

_No_. He was wrong, he had to be wrong, Father could not have just commanded him to murder his own brother.

Except Loki wasn’t his brother at all. Wasn’t Odin’s son, but Laufey’s. 

“You swore once that you would slay all of the monsters. Now you must make a choice. You can honor that oath, and take up your place as King of Asgard. Or you can ally yourself with her enemies against your own people. Choose.”

No. Nonono. Thor was not going to do this. He could not do this.

For the first time, Loki looked up from his hands. His eyes met Thor’s. There was anguish, and fear, and horror in their depths. So Loki was present enough to understand what was being said after all. Thor gave a brief, unconscious shake of his head. Surely Loki could not believe Thor would actually murder him! Jotun or not, Loki was his _brother_. This was a test of some kind, it had to be, he would refuse and Father would smile and everything would go back to the way it had been this morning, when things made sense.

But…that could not be right. Father had stripped Loki of his magic, revealing him as Jotun in front of all of Asgard. Even if Thor refused to kill Loki, the rest of Asgard would not be so hesitant. They only held back now out of respect for the Allfather. The moment Loki was alone…

And suddenly the reason behind the ceremony became clear. The crowds. The talk of wars fought long ago. The reminder that Loki had always been different from the rest of them. A choice. Father had told him to _choose._

He could take Loki out of here. He could just grab Loki and leave. But the crowd would try to stop them. Would want to rip Loki apart, now that they knew the truth.

Loki might be in too much shock to fight, but Thor was the best warrior in Asgard. Even if the crowd turned against them, (and they _would_ , now that they had been so forcibly reminded of centuries-old grudges), he could probably fight his way out. Carrying Loki over his shoulder, if he must. But he would not be able to do so without causing mortal injuries. Without killing the people he had sworn to defend.

Murder his brother?

Or try to protect him and slaughter his people?

_Choose_

Then he saw the second trap. Because the Allfather would have already known all this. Would have known what speaking to the people in such a way would cause. Which meant that Odin had never intended for Loki to leave that room alive, regardless of Thor’s decision.

Odin would never allow Thor to fight his way out of the room and simply leave. To do so would be a sign of weakness, and Odin was never weak. No. If Thor chose to fight, he would not just be fighting his people. He would be fighting the Allfather as well. For all his courage and skill, even had he been at his best with Mjolnir by his side, Thor knew he was no match for Odin’s power. His strength could be stripped from him as quickly and easily as Loki’s magic. And then Loki would die anyway.

_Choose_

Helpless, Thor looked to his friends. Sif was impassive, still staring at Loki like she didn’t know him. Hogun and Volstagg stood to either side of Fandral, hands on his shoulders. Preemptively restraining him, Thor realized. Fandral had always liked Loki more than the others. Had been the only one to actually _enjoy_  Loki’s caustic wit and numerous pranks.

If Thor fought, they would all fight with him. Out of loyalty to him, regardless of their feelings for Loki.

If Thor fought, they would all die. Even if the Allfather chose to let Thor live, (if, _if_ , he had already decided to kill one son today), he would never allow such treason to go unpunished in his subjects.

_Choose_

Killing Loki would destroy him. But to cause so much death and gain _nothing_ …

Thor clutched the dagger and looked back to Loki.

Loki didn’t move as Thor approached. Didn’t try to get away, despite knowing what was about to happen. In a way, that made it worse. Even when Thor sank to his knees beside him, Loki did nothing but stare at him with haunted eyes.

Thor turned to the Allfather, voice a monotone. “Is this truly the command of my king?”

_Please say no. Please say that this was some sort of test that I failed. Please tell me that you don’t really want me to do this. Please **stop**  this._

Odin’s single eye glinted with triumph. “Yes. It is the command of your king.”

Thor felt his eyes fill with tears and did nothing to wipe them away. Loki, _his_  Loki, managed a slight smile even in his terror. “This is a nightmare, right Thor? Like I had when we were children?”

Thor couldn’t restrain the sob that burst forth. Choking on his words, he forced himself to reply. “Yes Loki. This is just another nightmare. Soon you will wake, and all will be well.”

Before he could change his mind, before his resolve could weaken, before he could decide that _nothing_ , not even all the lives in Asgard, could be worth this, Thor swung the dagger down.

He miscalculated. Daggers had never been his weapon of choice. Thor’s skills lay in strength, not precision. So it was not surprising, not really, that instead of hitting the heart as he intended, the blade deflected off a rib and buried itself in Loki’s lung.

Loki gasped in pain, an inhale that quickly changed to choked coughing as he instinctively curled around the injury. Tears streaming down his face, Thor swung the dagger again. And missed the heart, again.

_Let this end, please, please just let this **end**._

Loki was moving now, blind animal instinct forcing him to try and crawl away from the agony. Thor held him down with a hand to the chest, ignoring the way frost bit at his fingers. His world narrowed down to red. The red of Loki’s eyes, wide with terror and pain. The red of the blood, (hadn’t their nursemaids insisted that Frost Giants bled black?) So much blood.

The dagger kept coming down. Again. And again. And again. And again.

“Thor? Thor, you…you have done enough. Thor?”

When the world returned to him, he was surprised to find Sif by his side, hand on his back. The body beneath him was still, red eyes sightless, looking at nothing. He had no idea how long he had been attacking a corpse, blindly driving the dagger into its flesh.

His hands were covered in blood. _His brother’s blood_.

Abruptly Thor staggered to his feet. The crowd was silent, whether in approval of his choice or simple shock over the gruesome murder committed in front of them Thor couldn’t tell. The Allfather was looking at him, face almost concerned, (a lie, a lie to rival all those Loki had ever told, if he could look at Thor and pretend concern now). Thor felt the sudden urge to drive the dagger into it, but the weight of Sif’s hand kept him from forgetting himself again. Instead, he walked forward, slowly, before kneeling at Odin’s feet and presenting the dagger.

“I…have done as you commanded, my king.”

Odin took the dagger and smiled down at him, proudly. “And you have done well, my son. You have proven that your loyalty to Asgard will stand firm, no matter how fair her enemies may seem. Go now, and rest.”

Thor swallowed. “What about the funeral? We must begin preparing…”

“Monsters do not require a funeral. The body will be disposed of, do not concern yourself.”

Thor’s hands trembled as he clenched them into fists. “I respectfully disagree, Allfather. As I was the one to kill him, it is my responsibility to…dispose…of the body.”

After a moment’s consideration, Odin nodded. Thor rose and moved back over to the…to Loki. He leaned down and picked him up as gently as he could, as if Loki were merely injured and being jostled could hurt him further. Carrying the corpse, Thor made his way out of the throne room. No one said a word.

He was not foolish enough to believe it was _Loki_  to whom they were showing respect by their silence.


	3. Chapter 3

Funerals required extensive preparation and a great number of rites that Thor could not remember. (Loki would have known, Loki knew _everything_. But he did know the way to the place of preparation, on the edge of the sea. Boats were there, and tinder. A bow to shoot the flaming arrows. Clean cloths. It occurred to Thor that perhaps this was not the way Jotnar handled funerals, but then he supposed it didn’t really matter. Regardless of any accident of birth, Loki was Aesir, and his brother, and he deserved the best that Thor could do for him.

It also occurred to Thor that he was in shock, that the horror of the past hour had been too much for his mind. He felt numb, detached, as if he were dreaming. Perhaps he was. Perhaps Loki’s last words had been right after all, and this was just another nightmare. That also didn’t matter.

There was a place to clean the body before placing it in the boat. Thor began this task, trying to be as respectful of his brother as he could. He was halfway finished before he realized that he had not brought fresh clothes and would therefore have to redress Loki in the torn, blood-soaked…

No. He would not think of that. He would not think of the blood. He would not think of anything but the task immediately in front of him.

He continued washing the body.

A few minutes later, there was a slight noise behind him. The door was opening. Thor felt his lips draw back into a snarl. If anyone tried to take Loki from him right now, to so much as suggest that he did not even deserve this much…

“Thor?”

It was Fandral and Volstagg, both looking solemn and carrying bundles. Thor gave them a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning back to Loki. Surely they knew his moods well enough to know not to interfere, regardless of the Allfather’s wishes.

Fandral moved forward, hesitantly placing a hand on Thor’s shoulder. His face, when Thor looked at it more closely, showed signs of tears. “We…we went to Loki’s rooms. The wards must have broken, either when the Allfather removed his magic or when he…” Fandral trailed off awkwardly.

“We brought some of his belongings.” Volstagg continued. “It is not much, but we took some fresh clothes, a few of his books, that sort of thing. This…may not be a proper funeral, but we will send him off as best as we can.”

Thor didn’t look at him. “Did you not hear the command of the Allfather? _Monsters_ do not have funerals.”

A brief silence. Finally, Fandral managed, “That may be so. But he is, was, Loki. Your brother and our friend. And he was no monster.”

Something about the words, the _sympathy_ , broke through Thor’s shock. For the first time since entering the building, he stopped working. “I killed him. He was my brother and I killed him.” He sank to the floor, shoulders shaking. “I, I killed him, I killed him, _I killed him!_ ”

Volstagg and Fandral both knelt beside him. Fandral’s arm went around his shoulders in a rough embrace, while Volstagg kept a steady hand on his back. It was Volstagg who muttered, almost under his breath. “The Allfather should not have commanded you to do this.”

Fandral laughed, a note of hysteria in his voice. “Oh, if we are going to commit treason by doubting the Allfather, why not go further? _He should never have commanded this to be done at all_.” Volstagg did not disagree.

The three friends huddled together as Thor tried his best to contain his sobs. There was still work to be done. For Loki’s sake he needed to return to that strange numb state that had allowed him to get this far. He needed to…

“Just breathe, Thor.” Fandral again. “Just breathe. We will get through this. Together, we will get through this.”

Finally, Thor calmed down, (a little, just a little, enough to breathe and feel like the air was actually making it to his lungs). “Where…where is Sif? And Hogun? Did they, did they choose not to come?” He knew there had been little love between Sif and Loki, and Hogun was so taciturn it was difficult to tell how he felt about anyone, but surely they would have put that behind them for this. Or was the knowledge of Loki’s true heritage enough to turn them away? He remembered the way Sif had _looked_ at Loki.

Volstagg and Fandral glanced at each other briefly, before Volstagg finally sighed. “It is not that. We thought, that is, with Loki being revealed as, as a Jotun, we thought…”

“We thought some citizen of Asgard with more grudges than sense might desecrate his rooms. Hogun stayed behind to guard them.” Fandral’s voice was matter-of-fact, and for the first time Thor realized he might not be the only one taking refuge in shock. “We will take turns ensuring that no one enters, at least not until tempers have cooled and you have had some chance to go through his belongings. There was some debate about who would take the first shift, but we talked it over and Hogun admitted that Volstagg and I were...better friends, where Loki was concerned. Therefore he agreed to take the first watch. We will relieve him, later. After this.”

Thor had not even considered that possibility, and another wave of shame overtook him. He would have sat idly by while everything Loki had owned was destroyed. Then again, everything Loki _was_ had been destroyed by Thor himself. What did it matter what happened to his things? (Except it did matter, it had to matter.)

He dashed away the tears from his eyes. “I, I had not considered, that is…” Thor took a deep breath. “Thank you, my friends.” He hesitated. “And Sif?”

Volstagg shifted uncomfortably. “She went to inform your mother.”

Mother. Thor had not thought of his mother since this morning, not since the vague realization that she was not present with everyone else. Had she known of this? Is that why she had been remaining in her rooms for the past few days, out of an inability to face her sons? _Had she known?_

No. He could not think of that. Could not think of the different choices he might have made, had he known in advance what was going to happen. Could not think of leaving Asgard, with Loki alive and well beside him. No.

He couldn’t think of that. Instead he took refuge in the numbness again, and grimacing slightly, stood up to return to his work. Perhaps sensing that Thor would not have appreciated help with this task, Volstagg took it upon himself to go looking for a suitable boat while Fandral began laying out Loki’s belongings.

A short while later, Thor was done. He accepted Fandral’s assistance in redressing Loki in the clothes they had brought. Loki’s blue skin would have looked strange when dressed in his preferred green, but Fandral had brought one of the few outfits Loki owned in white. Dressed this way, he looked peaceful. Noble. Not like he had in the throne room, panicked and _betrayed_ …

_Do not think of that. **Do not**. You will go mad. Think only of the task in front of you._

Together, they were finished by the time Volstagg returned to announce that the boat was ready.

Thor carried Loki over to the boat and laid him down, carefully arranging his limbs in a restful position. Fandral and Volstagg carried over his items. As they had said, they mostly brought books, although they also included a few trinkets Loki had placed around his chambers. The tinder was already ready and waiting to be set alight.

Thor felt he should say something, but didn’t know what. What could he possibly say to the brother he had murdered? His shoulders shook once again with repressed sobs as he desperately grasped for words. “Brother? Loki. I, I failed you. As a brother. As a person. I should have thought of some other way. I should have just said no. I should have...” Thor broke off. “But I suppose there is little point now in dwelling on what I _should have_ done. You are dead, by my hand. And I know there is no forgiveness for what I have done, but brother, I am so, so sorry. I hope, I hope that one day I will see you again. I hope that one day…” He could not continue. He could not. (He had to.)

“I know you must not believe me after what I have done, but I love you. I always have, and I always will. My life will never again be complete without you by my side. Be at peace, brother.”

At Thor’s slight nod, Fandral and Volstagg worked together to push the boat into the sea. Soon it was drifting away on the waves. Volstagg handed him the bow and arrow, flame already set alight. For a moment Thor simply stared at it, gazing into the flames. Loki had always been fond of fire, ironic as that now seemed. Taking a deep breath, he took aim and released the arrow. For a second he thought he had missed, but then he saw the fire catch. It was done.

Fandral began singing, a song of mourning and loss. Volstagg joined him. Thor could not speak, but simply watched as the fire reduced his brother to ashes. Long after the boat had fallen over the edge and the fire had disappeared, he still continued watching the spot where his brother had once been.

Mother, _Frigga_ , never came.

Eventually, Volstagg stirred and took Thor by the arm. “Come, now. It grows late, and we must return to the palace.”

Thor didn’t think he would ever be able to move again. Returning to the palace meant returning to his…to the All…to Odin. Meant returning to the last place he had seen his brother alive, and to the place where he had died. But Volstagg was right. It was growing late, and he could not remain on the shore forever. Together, they made their way through the streets. Some people saw them on their path, but, perhaps reading the look on Thor’s face, no one tried to speak to him.

As soon as they arrived Thor went straight to his rooms, hoping to avoid Odin. Fandral went to relieve Hogun of his watch, while Volstagg returned to his family. (Thor suspected Volstagg’s children were going to be rather smothered over the next few days.) Both of them assured him that they were there for him, and he could send word at any time if they were needed. Thor thought he thanked them again, but at this point, he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he would wake to find the day’s events nothing more than a nightmare. He would wake, and even though he would laugh at himself for being so childish he would run to Loki’s rooms and Loki would be there, smiling and _alive_ and…

Instead, upon entering his rooms, he saw Odin waiting for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Thor felt his whole body tremble with the urge to just start screaming. He whispered instead. “Why?”

“It had to be done.”

“No, no it did not.” Thor controlled his voice with an effort of will. “I killed him. I killed my own brother and will forever have to live with his blood on my hands. But _you_ forced the decision, knowing full well that he would die no matter my choice. _Why?_

Odin sighed. “Because I have known for a long time now that you were not ready to be king.”

Of all the things Odin could have said, there was nothing that Thor felt would have surprised him more. “You made me kill my brother because of that?! If you did not think I was ready, why plan the coronation? Why not just refuse to name me as heir?”

“And then what, boy?” Odin stood and began to pace around the room. “Place the _Frost Giant_ on the throne instead? I am old. I grow tired of ruling. But it became _painfully_ clear to me that you would never be ready to rule as long as Loki stayed by your side. You never thought, never planned, just rushed blindly into danger and trusted him to get you out of it. Which he inevitably did, leading you to a false confidence in your own invulnerability. I raised him to be your advisor, true, but I never expected you to trust in him so blindly. You would have been a mere puppet and given him all the power.”

Odin pointed his finger at Thor’s chest. “Look at today! You were able to think ahead, to realize the potential consequences of your actions, but only because I all but _forced_ you. Had you been able to turn to Loki for advice in that moment, you would have done so without a second thought, and you would not have questioned his judgment. A king must be able to decide for himself when the price is too high.”

Thor felt like he couldn’t breathe. All the air had somehow gone out of the room. “So you decided to kill Loki, to have _me_ kill Loki, as a lesson? What if I had chosen to fight?”

“Then I would have stripped you of your strength and convinced the people that Loki had you under a spell. It would not have been difficult, once they knew his true nature, to convince them of almost anything. I would have executed him, of course, to add veracity to the story.”

 ” _You called him your son_.”

Odin laughed at that. Laughed. As if anything in the world could ever be funny again. “Oh, you truly are a foolish boy. Where do you think he learned to lie?”

Thor sat down heavily on a nearby chair. For a long moment he was silent, unable to think past the memory of Loki’s eyes when he first _knew_ . Then he asked, quietly, “Did Frigga know?”

“Frigga?” Odin’s eyebrow rose slightly at Thor’s decision to call his mother by her name, but he answered the question. “Not at first. She knew that Loki was Jotun, and that I planned for him to advise you. However I knew she wouldn’t accept this new plan. She had grown too attached to the Jotun. Rather than risk her interference I took her to Vanaheim and left her there. There are hidden paths between the realms, but Frigga does not know how to access them. She would have needed the Bifrost in order to return or to send a message, and Heimdall has been monitoring the Bifrost carefully to ensure that did not happen. Now that everything is almost over, she can return, if she wishes.”

So Mother hadn’t known, and would have tried to stop it if she had found out. Thor would have expected to be relieved by that, but instead he just felt tired. “Almost over?”

“Have you not learned that lesson yet? I never have only _one_ reason for the things I do.” Odin looked smug. “Jotunheim will declare war soon.”

Thor’s head spun. “Why would Jotunheim declare war? Over Loki? You said he had been abandoned.”

“I lied. No one abandons a child in a temple, near the greatest source of their power. The Jotnar are not like the Aesir. The few sorceresses we have are born with the gift. On Jotunheim, it must be awakened by prolonged exposure to the Casket of Ancient Winters. All infants are left with the Casket for at least one night, and then tested the next day for any signs of magical ability. Of course, the war rather complicated matters, but Laufey did not expect us to desecrate a temple. Really, it was the safest place for his youngest son.”

This still made no sense. It was important that this make sense. If he wanted to stop anyone else from dying, he had to understand _why_. “So you took Loki as a political hostage? Even if you never considered him your son, that was still good enough reason _not_ to kill him. You told me a wise king never seeks out war.”

“Ah, but you are young, and young kings are never wise.” Odin smiled at him. “Do you still not see it? I was not the only one to doubt your abilities. Asgard loves you, but your faults are well-known. You are a warrior my son, not a diplomat, and warriors do not fare well in times of peace.”

“But to deliberately start a war…”

“Asgard need never know it was deliberate. They are _afraid_ now, of the Jotnar, in a way they have not been for centuries. That one was able to hide among them, unknown for so long, with such powers and abilities as Loki showed…” Odin laughed again. “They know nothing of the Jotnar. They will not realize that with the Casket gone, any sorcerers Jotunheim had left died long ago. The Jotnar are weak now, lacking the magic necessary to help them live on such an inhospitable realm. Killing them all would be a _mercy_ at this point. But Asgard does not know that.”

Odin leaned closer to Thor. “Our people _fear_ Jotunheim, and they will see Laufey’s declaration of war as a show of power, not desperation. They will not hesitate when the decision is made to exterminate the vermin once and for all. They will see our easy victory as a sign of _your strength_ , not Jotunheim’s weakness. And when it is over, they will cheer your name and praise your triumph. Most importantly, no one will have any doubts left about your ability to rule. You will be far from the first king to base his reign on the foundation of a war.”

“What if I refuse?” Thor barely had the energy to form the words. “What if I go join Mother in Vanaheim, and never have anything to do with Asgard again?”

“The war will happen regardless, although a victory might take a bit longer without your assistance. More people would die in the fighting.” Odin shrugged his shoulders. “That would be most unfortunate, but it is, of course, your choice.”  

His choice. Like killing Loki had been his choice.

Odin placed his hands on Thor’s shoulders, smiling down at him. “My son. I understand you are upset. You had genuine feelings for the Jotun, and will grieve him as you must. But Asgard needs two things. First, a good king. You have gone farther along that path in the past day than in the preceding five centuries. And second, a king in whom they can _believe_. Once you have won the war, they will have that as well. One life in exchange for those things was not too high a price for a king to pay.” He squeezed gently, then let go. “I will let you rest now. Your coronation is soon, and Jotunheim will declare war any day.” He left.

Thor wanted nothing more than to sleep and never wake up. He spared a brief thought for Sif, who was probably stubborn enough to still be wandering the palace looking for Mother. He should go find her and tell her to stop, that Mother was on Vanaheim and likely never coming back. But his bed was there, and welcoming, and Loki might still be alive in his dreams.

Thor slept.

* * *

 

Jotunheim declared war the next day. For a brief moment, Thor wondered how they had found out so quickly. Then he realized, of course Odin would never have left such a thing to chance. He must have sent a message. Since angering Jotunheim into war was the whole point, there was no telling what form that message had taken.

  _Perhaps that was why he wanted someone else to take care of the body._

No, do not think of that.

If the palace had been in an uproar over the Jotun in their midst before, the people were completely mad now. Jotunheim’s declaration of war was taken as “proof” that Loki _Liesmith_ had been allied with Laufey, a traitor to Asgard all along. _Of course the Allfather had known what he was doing_ , the people said. _Of course he could not allow the traitor to live_ . Thor tried to contradict the rumors, but the people merely gave him pitying glances. _Thor has a great heart, to still love his traitor not-brother. But it does not change the truth_ . Eventually Thor gave up and sent for his friends. Sif was already in Loki’s rooms, taking her shift, but the others did not take long to arrive.

Volstagg was the first to speak. “Are you certain that talking here is a good idea?”

“You were right, the people are panicked enough to consider desecrating this place.” By this point, Thor was almost resigned. “At least one of us would have needed to remain here anyway. Might as well meet here.”

In truth, Volstagg had a point. The memories of Loki were almost overwhelming in this room. There, a magical artifact Loki had been researching, put down for a moment and never picked up again. The balcony on which Loki would stand and look over Asgard, proudly claiming to have the best view in the city. A book that Loki would never finish.  

Thor forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand. Speaking quickly and quietly, he informed his friends of what had happened the night before. Of the reasoning behind Odin’s schemes.

Hogun, of all people, was the one to say what they were all thinking. “Has he gone mad?”

“Perhaps.” Sif replied. “But you do have to admit there is a certain…elegance, to the scheme. If Jotunheim is as weak as he claims, it likely will work precisely as he planned. With a glorious victory for Asgard, and all her people praising Thor’s rule.”

Fandral’s voice was bitter. “Yes, and all he had to do for it was sacrifice a son.”

No one had an answer for that. Sif continued looking at Thor, concern on her face. Volstagg swallowed and looked into the distance, no doubt thinking of his own children. Hogun looked down.

Finally, Sif broke the silence. “We are with you, my friend. What would you have us do?”

“Nothing.”

Fandral, Volstagg, and Sif all began talking at once. Hogun looked grimly approving, no doubt having already come to the same conclusion.

Thor raised his voice to be heard. “There is nothing to be done!” Everyone looked at him, shocked into silence. He buried his face in his hands. “There is nothing to be done. Odin has planned this too carefully. I could try for peace, as soon as I am crowned. But I killed Laufey’s son, and that is a crime too great to be forgiven. Even if I could somehow convince Laufey of the circumstances, that I did not do so willingly, I would still have to make a grand gesture in reparation. Most likely the return of the Casket of Ancient Winters. The people of Asgard have gone mad. They believe, truly and honestly believe, that Loki was a traitor and his death was necessary. If I begin dealing with Laufey, offering him back the source of his power…”

Sif completed his sentence. “They will accuse you of being a traitor yourself. Of bringing ruin to Asgard. They will overthrow you, and go to war anyway.”

“It is not right.” Fandral’s face was pale and drawn. “Some things are simply not right.”

“No.” Hogun’s voice was quiet. “But some things cannot be changed.”

Wordlessly, Fandral walked out of the room. After sending an apologetic glance to Thor, Volstagg went after him. Thor kept his face in his hands and tried very hard not to cry. He did not succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a great big chapter of exposition. My biggest problem with filling this prompt was figuring out a _reason_ for Odin to come up with this kind of loyalty test that didn't boil down to evil for evil's sake. I prefer even my most villainous characters to have some kind of understandable motivation; it makes them more real. 
> 
> Hopefully I didn't bore you all!


	5. Chapter 5

The war was brief, although not as brief as Odin had foreseen. Jotunheim still had some power left. King Laufey raised the Great Beasts from their hibernation, and many Aesir soldiers were killed in the resulting battle. Many, but not so many that the people grew tired of war. Instead, fueled by Odin’s words, their losses merely encouraged them to end the Jotnar threat once and for all. Thor did not try to stop them.

Something in his soul twisted during the war, at the sight of so many bodies, so much blue and red. Many of them were little larger than Thor himself. Apparently the citizens of Jotunheim varied widely in size, with the warriors being the largest, but Loki had not been such a runt after all. The children, especially, were smaller than anyone had expected. But they were still Frost Giants, still _monsters_ , and they died just as swiftly as the rest.

But not before killing Fandral.

He had been fighting with Thor, near the end. He almost never spoke anymore, to anyone, but he fulfilled his orders just like any other soldier. Until a child had come running out of a house, ice spear held high, and Fandral had just…stopped. Hadn’t so much as lifted his sword. When the child speared him, it had appeared shocked and horrified by its own actions. Fandral had, if anything, seemed relieved.

_Some things are simply not right_

He was granted a warrior’s funeral, with most of Asgard in attendance. All Thor could think about was the way Fandral had looked, standing on the shore and singing Loki to his rest. Afterwards the group, (now only four), all found themselves in Loki’s old rooms. The rooms were dusty now, robbed of everything that had made them _Loki's_ , but still they remained a favored meeting place. Perhaps more out of habit than anything else.

They did not speak, but sat together quietly and drank themselves into oblivion. Thor was one of the last ones awake.

Sif was the other.

“Will it get better? Now that the war is over, will it somehow get better?” She never allowed herself to sound so vulnerable sober.

Thor had no answer for her.

He kept drinking, after that. It did horrible things to his already-short temper, but when he slept he slept deeply and without dreams. (At least none that he could remember.) The people of Asgard praised him for their glorious victory over the monstrous Frost Giants. He drank more.

He wrote to Mother, once. He poured out his soul onto the page and begged her to come back. He couldn’t do this alone anymore. He _needed_ her.

He burned the letter without sending it. Heimdall had told him that she knew what had happened to Loki, and to Jotunheim. That she knew what Thor had done. She had never once tried to contact him, and perhaps that was for the best. He had, after all, murdered her son. What comfort could she possibly be willing to offer after that?

Odin went into the Odinsleep, and Thor did not hesitate before standing over his body with a pillow clutched in his hands. He was already a kin-slayer, had knowingly destroyed an entire people, had murdered his own brother. What was one more damnation added to the list?

He wondered if Odin had foreseen that, as well.

The people began to grow restless. Thor’s victory over Jotunheim could only take him so far, and his diplomatic skills worsened as his drinking increased. Without Odin’s (or Loki’s) advice, Thor had no idea how to handle the various diplomats and ambassadors, how to negotiate treaties in a way that allowed both sides to feel as if they had won. They were on the verge of outright war with Svartalfheim, and that war would not be so easy to win.

_Warriors do not fare well in times of peace_

Thor knew what he was doing, when he drank too much at the banquet that night. Knew what he was doing, when he dragged the ambassador from Svartalfheim into his quarters. Knew what he was doing, when he ignored her cries and claimed his privilege as King of Asgard.

Svartalfheim declared war less than a week later. Sensing Asgard’s increasing weakness, Nidavellir did the same. The two realms became allies, focused on nothing more than Asgard’s destruction. Vanaheim, Asgard’s staunchest ally, was nevertheless silent when asked for aid. Thor thought of his mother, and was secretly glad that Vanaheim knew better than to interfere.

The war was long, brutal and bloody, but the outcome was never in doubt. Thor fought until the end, watching as the warriors of Asgard died one by one. Hogun fell first, than Volstagg. He thought perhaps Sif might survive after all, (surely she was far too stubborn to die), but was proven wrong by a dark elvish blade.

They had remained loyal to him. No matter what he had done, they still had called him friend even as they died.

Asgard burned.

As the sword that would be the last thing he would ever see swung down, Thor could not bring himself to care.

_Warriors do not…_

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone! I knew when I read this prompt it was going to have a tragic ending, but this caught even me off-guard. Still, I couldn't end it any other way.
> 
> Coneycat wrote a version of this same prompt with a happier ending called "Rotten at the Heart" if anyone needs a bit of relief from the angst.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a couple years ago for a prompt on Norsekink: http://norsekink.livejournal.com/11337.html?thread=27477833#t27477833. I rediscovered it on my hard drive and decided to post it here with some minor edits. Chapters will be released every couple days. For people concerned about the Rape/Non-Con tag, there is a very brief, non-explicit mention of rape in the final chapter. Given the sensitivity of that subject I decided to err on the side of caution when tagging.


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